


Dropping the Formalities

by SunnyValhalla



Series: Dropping the Formalities [1]
Category: War Horse (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Butter as lube, Character Death Fix, Developing Relationship, Enthusiastic Consent, Feelings Realization, First Time, Fix-It of Sorts, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Present Tense, Use of God's Name in Vain, but they are neither Albert nor James, other characters appear briefly or are mentioned, sub!james
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyValhalla/pseuds/SunnyValhalla
Summary: I promise you, man to man, that I’ll look after him as closely as you’ve done. I’ll respect him and all the care that you’ve taken with him. And if I can, I’ll return him to your care.Captain James Nicholls survives the war and comes back to Devon to return Joey to Albert, who never enlisted to fight and stayed in the farm. What could a promise made years ago lead to?





	Dropping the Formalities

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Kyle (teamthorki) from Tumblr for proof-reading this story for me and being so patient and helpful!

"Albert!"

Albert pauses his work for a moment when he hears his mother's voice coming from the vegetable garden, taking that opportunity to release a heavy and tired sigh and wipe the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He doesn't answer right away, but instead shakes his head slightly and quickly rolls that sleeve back up to his elbow.

"Albert!" He hears his mother call out again, and this time figures he should give her some kind of response.

"Just a moment, Mum," he says just loud enough for his voice to be heard from the stable. "I'm almost done here." He doesn't waste time and takes the shovel back into his hand so he can collect the last bit of manure that had accumulated overnight, biting his lower lip when the force he applies to the movement causes a faint ache in his shoulders.

"There's a man here. I think the visit is for you."

Those words make Albert pause again just as he is finished depositing the manure in the pushcart. He doesn't have many friends, doesn't have enough opportunity to make them when so much of his time is spent working in his family's farm. Unlike his father, he doesn't have drinking acquaintances either. Albert can't remember getting a visit since Andrew had left for the war, and he has accepted by now that his best friend is not coming back home. The only other man Albert can think about is…

Could it be?

Albert's excitement dissipates just as quickly as it had risen when he realizes that his mother never mentioned a horse, only a man, and he puts the shovel away with haste. His throat feels suddenly dry and there's a knot in his heart as he begins to push the cart out of the stable.

"Just leave the cart and come quick." Albert hears his mother say as if she could she could feel his anxiety and he doesn't need to be told twice. He pushes the cart to the corner and leaves it against the wall, right next to the door to the stable, and rushes over to the pathway that leads from the farm gate to the house.

Much to his grateful surprise, the man his mother had talked about was accompanied by a large horse, but not just any horse. "Joey!" Albert calls out and smiles wide through his panting when the horse turns his head to the sound of his voice. "Joey! You came back!" He laughs when he finally stops next to the horse, reaching over to pet the horse's nose gently, a feeling of joy swelling in his chest when Joey responds to his touch despite how rough his hand had become along the years they have been separated.

"You came back, buddy." Albert leans his forehead against the bridge of Joey's nose just after the horse nuzzles his cheek, and for an extended moment the world around them seems to go still as they look into each other's eyes, the apparent silence only interrupted by Albert's labored breaths.

"Albert," the man his mother had announced as a visitor says with a solemn voice which seems to startle Albert back into reality, and when Albert turns to look at him, he is pressing his service cap against his chest in greeting. The gesture, a little too formal for the moment, brings a warm smile to Albert's lips.

"Captain Nicholls," Albert says with a small nod. He extends his hand for a handshake, but quickly remembers that he had just finished cleaning the stable and pulls it away quickly, chuckling nervously in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. You don't want to shake my hand right now. I was just…" He trails off, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the stable before taking a gentle hold of Joey's bridle. He glances to his side at the horse. "You brought him back," Albert comments and turns his gaze back onto Nicholls.

"I made you a promise," Nicholls says in response to his comment, the tone firm and leaving no room for questions. "I promised that I would return him to your care if I could." With those words, he reaches over and pets Joey's nose with what looks to be a sad smile. "Such a brave horse you've got, Albert. He was the finest in our unit, and the best companion a man could have asked for in the field."

"Captain Nicholls?" Albert starts, but is quickly interrupted.

"James." Captain Nicholls turns to look at him just in time to see Albert quirk an eyebrow. "I'm sorry for the interruption. I just meant to say you can call me James. Please drop the formalities. I'm here as a friend."

"A friend…" Albert repeats the word and gives him a small nod. "Promise or no promise, thank you." He glances between the other man and Joey. "I was just so worried. I was the first one at the post office every week. God, now he's here again." He lets out a heavy sigh of relief, then turns to look at James again. "You could stay for dinner."

"I don't mean to to impose," James says almost as soon as the invitation leaves Albert's lips. "My friends are waiting for me in town. We found a couple of rooms available to stay the night before we continue our journey home."

Albert begins to shake his head, but it's Mrs. Narracott that speaks up first.

"Nonsense. You took this horse away when the war started, and you brought him back without a scratch four years later," she says with a tone that left no room for excuses and pats Joey's back. "He's probably looking even better now, right, Albert? You aren't making light of us just because our farm is small, are you?"

"Far from me, Mrs. Narracott. I just mean--..."

"You're eating dinner with us, then," she says and it's clear that she won't take no for an answer.

James can only shake his head and lower his gaze in resignation, doing his best to hide an amused grin as Mrs. Narracott walks away. "She's your mother, I suppose?"

Albert's eyes have been on the older man's face through the whole interaction, and the question seems to remind him to look away even if just for a moment. "Yeah, that's my Mum. Her name's Rose." When he turns to look at James again, he does so with his brow furrowed and trying not to wonder about the feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that only becomes stronger when James's blue eyes meet his own.

"She has a strength to her character," James says with what sounds almost like fondness. "A tenacity and spirit. I've been wondering where you could've gotten that from. I have my answer now."

Those words make Albert raise an eyebrow. "You've been wondering?" he asks almost without thinking, and that seems to make James realize how his choice of words must've come off because he clears his throat and seems about to say something when Albert decides to save him the trouble. "I'll take him back to the stable," he says as he begins to tug Joey away by the reins. "You don't need to just wait here." He gestures towards the open door to the house. "Make yourself at home."

Albert almost expects James to follow him to the stable, but when he turns to look back over his shoulder it is to watch the older man climb up the couple of steps to the front door almost hesitantly. He shakes his head and refuses to acknowledge the disappointment that comes over him, just as he refuses to acknowledge how closely he had been watching James earlier.

 

*

 

Albert isn't expecting to find James planted on his feet behind the dinner table, service cap now clutched in both hands in front of his chest as he leans down to take a close look at an old framed picture sitting on a worn out floating shelf, when he finally comes back from the stable after making sure Joey had enough fresh water and enough grass to spend the evening.

"The Narracotts?" Albert can't decide whether that was a question or a comment from the other man's tone, but for some reason he finds himself smiling at the scene and the smile doesn't fade even when James turns away from the shelf and looks over at him instead. "The floorboards," James says in what seems like the most random change of topic Albert can remember. "I could tell you were there by the way the floorboards creaked." There seems to be a hint of a smirk on his lips when Albert approaches, the floorboards creaking again under his steps. "I mean, I could tell a man was approaching. Could very well be Mr. Narracott, but I thought it safe to assume it was you."

"There isn't much here that isn't safe," Albert comments without putting a lot of real thought behind his words as he walks around the dinner table and crosses the distance between them. "You know what I mean." This time he turns his gaze away from James almost nervously and looks down at the picture the other man had been gazing upon so intently a few moments ago. "I think that was taken when they got married. I'm not sure." He reaches over to take the frame in his hand, but ends up doing nothing more than brushing some dust off the aged brass.

James lets out a small chuckle by his side. "Sorry, I just realized that came off as a little odd. Listening to the sounds around you, that's something we learn in the army and which comes in handy in the war. I suppose we just end up doing the same thing in every-day life. I didn't mean to scare you or compare you with an enemy or anything…"

Albert furrows his brow when he looks back up at James again. He can tell the man is rambling, and for some reason that realization fills him with sorrow and he reaches over without a second thought to rest a hand over one of those with which James is clutching his cap. "I wasn't offended," he says with a bright smile and a hint of laughter that never truly comes to be, seeming to forget completely just how dirty he must be and how bad he must smell after working in the stable. James himself doesn't seem to remember that either, and even if does notice it, he doesn't seem to mind it. "You've been away from the battlefield for what, a couple of months? You're still on your journey back home. That's fine."

Albert is glad to see that those words seem to take some weight off James's shoulders and help him relax even if just a little.

"We should go get washed up for dinner," Albert says without giving James time to start overthinking again. "My mum killed a chicken earlier to make a stew. You like chicken stew, right?" He waits for James to nod in response to his words before pulling his hand back. "We don't have a spare room, but you can leave your cap and your jacket in my room until you leave. C'mon," he says while moving to squeeze through the tight space between James and the dinner table so he can head towards his bedroom, "don't be so stiff."

Albert can't help the frown that settles on his brow once he is on his way to his room, this time having no doubt -- by the creaking of the floorboards -- that James is following him. He isn't entirely sure how much those last words were meant for James or for himself. How many times has he squeezed through the same space with his mother or his father, even with Andrew when he came to visit and stayed for dinner, before the war started and took his friend away? Surely he is imagining the warmth that has suddenly spread through his body, though he supposes he should probably be more concerned about the shiver down his spine or the stir in his lower region inside his trousers.

To Albert's great relief, the situation isn't so bad that he needs to keep his back turned in order to avoid mockery, so he turns on his heels towards James and does his best to just act natural as he would with any other handsome man. Wait, did he just think of the war veteran standing in his room as _handsome_? Albert clears his throat and gestures towards the bed. "You can just leave your stuff there," he says and hopes his effort to keep his awkwardness from his voice doesn't show. "I'll be right back." Albert has the clear impression that this time James is the one avoiding his gaze, but the thought is so absurd that he only shakes his head before grabbing a fresh change of clothes and heading for the bathroom.

 

*

 

"You said Joey was the finest horse in your unit?" Albert asks from where he lies on his back in a sleeping mat he had improvised using some old and worn out blankets on the floor, but doesn't give James enough time to answer before he continues. "What about the other one? The black one. He seemed larger than Joey in your drawings."

"You mean Topthorn?" James asks from above him with what sounds like a fond chuckle, something Albert takes as a sign that he was still awake and that Albert hadn't just disturbed his sleep. "He was a fine horse indeed," he says without waiting for Albert's response. "He was Major Stewart's loyal mount. I must've commented about that in my letters? He and Joey became good friends. I think they were drawn to each other from the first moment they met." Albert can almost hear the older man's smile. "Joey was the finest in my eyes, though. I'm sure you can understand that. Isn't he the finest to you?"

"He definitely is!" Albert answers with unrestrained enthusiasm.

He glances up at the bed when he hears the frame creak under James as the man turns to lie on his side. "Please don't get me wrong, but I truly don't mean to impose. Are you sure this is okay? I mean, me sleeping here. Mrs. Narracott could've just been polite when she invited me."

"She wasn't just being polite," Albert says with certainty and a clearly amused chuckle. He can't help finding the older man's concern and reluctance about their hospitality endearing, and this time he decides that he can think about his feelings at another opportunity. Ever since Albert can remember, his mother trying to push more food into his plate than he had already helped himself to was part of their meal routine, and to see that attention turned towards James instead had been a welcome change. "She isn't so insistent when she is just being polite. She was going to be very cross if you were serious about turning her down."

Dinner as a whole had been almost an event this evening. It was almost like there was someone's birthday being celebrated, except the last time Albert remembers a birthday being celebrated with a special dinner was when he had turned twelve. The point is that they had remained seated at the table for much longer than usual, Mrs. Narracott showing almost as much excitement as Albert himself as they listened to a few stories James had to tell about the war even after the dishes were washed. Albert had stolen some glances towards his father from time to time and, just as he had been expecting, the man's arms were crossed as he feigned disinterest.

Albert only saw his father take part in the conversation when they were all back on their feet and James made to head back to the bedroom to fetch his cap and his jacket so he could leave, and even then the elder Narracott did little more than interject his support when Mrs. Narracott insisted with James to stay the night. "It's getting dark out there, your friends will understand," she had said with finality, almost as if she were talking to her own child rather a man who was essentially a stranger, and James could do little but accept her invitation. "I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on."

"At least let me sleep on the floor?" James asks for what must be the fifth time in the night, though the first since they had laid down. "I've slept on the cold ground more times than I can count, but this is your room. In your home. I am the guest here, and I've been abusing your hospitality."

Albert lets out a warm chuckle and shakes his head, then swallows hard past a lump that had just formed in his throat as he pictured the tough conditions in which James must have had to sleep during the war, before he moves to sit up, turning to look at the older man. "I hope you're not trying to say that you _miss_ sleeping on the ground," he says with a small smile. "My mum would probably kill me, James." He chuckles again and pulls himself up so he can sit on the edge of the bed without even thinking. "Those drawings that you sent me with your letters, are they really all yours?"

James answers that question with an affirmative hum and Albert can swear that he sees the older man's lips turn up in a small smile. "I wouldn't call them drawings," he says in a quiet voice that Albert is hesitant to consider shy. "They're just sketches. We never fought in trenches, so we had plenty of free time between operations. That's the time I used to write letters, so I figured I would show you how Joey was doing in a way, not just write about it."

" _Sketches_?" Albert doesn't even try to hide just how dumbfounded he is with James's choice of words. "They are amazing, though. I even went into town and bought a box where I could keep those drawings. I'll show them to you tomorrow. You're an artist, James."

Albert sees and hears the older man chuckle almost nervously at those words before he moves to sit up, his shoulders rising and falling again when he lets out a sigh and though there is a voice in the back of Albert's mind that tells him that they shouldn't be sitting so close, this time he decides to ignore that voice. He isn't sure what motivates that decision. Maybe it's the sparkle that he sees in James's eyes in the dim light? A sparkle that Albert could swear he had seen the first time they had met years ago when he had decided to trust James with his horse despite the pain of the separation. Not that Albert had gazed intently into the older man's eyes back then or anything.

"An artist?" James asks with disbelief clear in his voice.

Albert doesn't say anything at first, just gives him a small nod and reaches up without even thinking to touch the older man's cheek. He swallows hard when James seems to flinch away from the touch, but becomes convinced that the reaction had been merely out of surprise when James leans slightly into his touch only a moment later. He traces a faint scar that runs from James's forehead and through the outer end of the man's right eyebrow to his cheekbone with his thumb, and Albert is certain that he can tell which incident had put that scar there, from all those James had written about in his letters.

"You have scars over your ribs too," Albert comments in something that is barely above a whisper. "They're so big. Those wounds must've hurt a lot." He notices how the comment seems to cause James to tense, but instead of pushing Albert's hand away and trying to end the conversation, the older man reaches up with one hand and lets it rest over Albert's own, eyes fluttering closed as he draws in a deep breath and releases it slowly. "To think that I lie down here and complain to myself about the ache in my shoulders and arms from farm work so often…"

That comment seems to make James laugh and this time the sound is warm and restrained only because neither of them wants to disturb Albert's parents in the room next door. "There's no way I didn't comment about Flanders," he says and opens his eyes to look back at Albert. "That was such a close call. We were going to lead a cavalry charge through a German encampment, but someone -- I can't recall exactly who right now -- suggested we send someone as a scout first. Stewart didn't like the idea at first, but that ended up saving our lives in that and in other similar operations." James goes silent for a long moment and for some unfathomable reason Albert takes the silence as a cue to move closer.

"Can't always walk out unscathed, though," Albert comments almost matter-of-factly.

"Can't always walk out unscathed," James all but murmurs in agreement before he snorts a bit. "Though I should consider myself lucky for walking out in the first place. Countless men didn't have that privilege," he says with a small and sad smile before a moment of silence falls over them again. "Albert…" James suddenly says under his breath in a tone that Albert would consider a supplication if he didn't know any better, but even if he does know better, the sound of his name from James's lips right now seems to instill Albert with enough courage to lean in closer and brush his lips lightly against the older man's.

The action is tentative at first and Albert isn't even entirely sure what he is doing or what on Earth had possessed him to do it, but the uncertainty begins to fade away when he realizes that James doesn't seem about to pull away. He takes that as a cue to actually press his lips against James's, as encouragement to try and deepen the kiss, and though this isn't exactly his first kiss -- he and Andrew had experimented together a few times along their teenage years --, Albert can't help feeling a little self-conscious now.

James gives no indication of being disappointed with how sloppy the kiss is, and on the contrary, he seems to respond in kind and press against Albert with welcoming enthusiasm, letting out a quiet moan. He even parts his lips to try and coax Albert's tongue in before Albert himself thinks to ask for access, and soon Albert finds himself shifting his weight onto one knee as he leans over James, his fingers now fumbling with the buttons of the sleeping shirt he had let the other man borrow earlier.

"Shit!" Albert blurts out when they are ultimately forced to break the kiss to catch their breath. "I think I just ripped one off." He can't help chuckling nervously and when he looks back up to meet James's eyes, he finds the other man watching him with a broad grin.

"I can sew it back on tomorrow," James offers while still panting a little for air. "Mrs. Narracott won't even notice the difference." This time, it is James's turn to laugh, and Albert finds that he could easily come to love that sound. "Unless you prefer to do that yours--..."

Albert doesn't give him the chance to finish that sentence, but instead covers James's lips with his own again for a quick peck just to silence him because the last thing Albert wants to think or talk about right now is his own mother. Much to Albert's relief, the action only seems to make James laugh again as he moves to help Albert tug his sleep shirt off before casually tossing it on the floor.

The action leaves Albert free to move on to removing his own shirt as quick as he can, this time being able to just tug it over his head. He throws it on the floor just as unceremoniously, and soon enough he is moving closer again and capturing James's lips in another kiss. Deep and hungry like their first, but much less tentative on Albert's part even though Albert ends up pulling back much earlier than he would've liked this time. He just needs to ask, needs to _know_...

"Are you sure… about this?" He doesn't remember ever hearing his own voice so husky as when those words leave his lips, a hand now reaching up to grab the side of James's neck.

James's answer comes in the form of a firm, enthusiastic nod, and then… "I mean, as long as you are."

"Yeah!" There's no hesitation in Albert's heart as he gives the other man a nod of his own, and when he leans in this time it's not James's lips that he goes for. Instead, he places a trail of messy, wet kisses along James's jawline, his hand sliding up so he can send his fingers into the too-short hair in the back of James's head.

"Albert…" James gasps out his name between sweet moans that make Albert's now rock-hard cock twitch inside his trousers, and he lets out an almost pained groan while moving down to kiss along James's neck.

"James…" Albert says under his breath as he begins to alternate the kisses with little bites, and he almost needs to force himself to pull away again so he can reach into the nightstand drawer for a small jar of butter that he keeps there for those moments when he needs to relieve himself.

James seems to take that opportunity to lie back down against the pillows, and Albert can finally take a moment to just appreciate the sight before him, the way James's well defined chest rises and falls with each labored breath, the outline of muscles along the man's abs. This time Albert doesn't question or judge himself for finding the other man handsome, he just reaches down to unlace his trousers and push them down with one hand while dipping the other into the butter, watching with a mischievous grin as James does the same with his own.

"Bloody hell," he says with a small chuckle when his eyes travel down to the other man's cock just before he is once again leaning over James, this time effectively getting on top of him, his free and clean hand going not for James's hair but instead resting on one of the large scars marring the skin along James's ribs as he wraps his buttered fingers around both their cocks.

"Fuck," James gasps out, thrusting up into Albert's hand instinctively. "Y-You're not so bad yourself," he says with a small chuckle of his own, his hands coming up to rest on Albert's back as Albert strokes them both gently at first. "God, Albert…"

"Y-Yeah?" Albert asks without really expecting an answer, panting hard as he begins to pick up the pace, biting his lower lip hard to keep his groans from getting too loud in the otherwise quiet night. He is grateful that James seems to be taking the same care, neither of them wanting to wake up Albert's parents and get caught in this situation.

"A-Albert… I want you," James manages to say in between his moans. "I want you… inside me."

Those words gives Albert pause, his hand going still around their cocks as he blinks and pulls back only enough so he can look down at the other man, an eyebrow quirked up quizzically.

"You didn't hear that wrong," James says and Albert could swear there's now a hint of hesitation in the older man's voice. "I-I want you to take me, Albert. From behind. Please?" The uncertainty that Albert could hear in James's voice now shows in the man's expression, and Albert can feel his heart ache at that sight.

"I've never…" he begins to say once he has swallowed past the lump that had just formed in his throat, but soon trails off in embarrassment. He and Andrew had never gotten past rubbing against each other like he and James had been doing until a few seconds ago, the idea had simply never occurred to them, but now that request, that plea, seems to send a pleasant jolt of electricity to Albert's groin.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," James all but whispers, smiling up at him in reassurance as he runs his fingers lightly along Albert's sides. "Trust me, Albert. I trust you."

Albert doesn't say a word for a long moment and instead starts to rub his hand around their cocks again, this time in an almost painfully slow pace, before he gives the older man a nod. "I trust you too," he whispers and finally forces himself to pull his hand away and move over to give James enough room to turn onto his stomach, which James does once he has almost ripped his sleeping trousers and underwear in the process of removing them.

Albert watches with a grin as James grabs the pillow and shoves it under his hips, and takes that moment to admire the older man's back and the perfectly round curve of his buttocks before Albert figures that he should move closer again. He uses one of his forearms for support as he leans over James's body once again, this time taking only his own cock into his buttered hand so he can properly position himself against James's entrance, and finds himself hesitating for a moment when James shivers under him.

"Albert, please," James positively begs, and that is all the encouragement Albert needs before he starts to push in slowly, drawing out what sounds a lot like a whine of discomfort from the older man. "It's okay," James says quickly and before Albert can hesitate again. "It's okay," he says once again, now beginning to pant a little. "Just… go slow for now. Gentle. Like this."

"I don't wanna hurt you," Albert murmurs in response to James's words, but doesn't hesitate to continue as slow and gentle as he can despite the sensation around his cock making him want to just bury himself into the older man's body already.

He could swear that he hears James laugh quietly at that. "You won't," James says, strangely without even a hint of doubt in his voice, before letting out a moan that he quickly tries to muffle by biting his forearm, and Albert can tell that he isn't in so much discomfort anymore. "Ah, fuck…"

"Jesus Christ!" Albert exclaims once he is all the way inside, finding the need to pause for a moment and trembling hard as he catches his breath. "God, James." He chuckles in between gasps and and furrows his brow deeply in concentration as he starts to move, paying as much attention as he can to James's reactions even once he begins to actually rock his hips into James, enjoying the sound and the feeling of his balls slapping against James's arse with each thrust.

"You feel so good, Albert," James says with a gasp, rocking against the pillow and back against Albert with the same pace. "You feel so good inside me." He makes to reach down between his own thighs to stroke himself, but Albert grabs his hand without even thinking and pins it down into the mattress beside James's head.

Albert doesn't question his own action even when he hears James whimper under him, the man's other hand grabbing the sheets in a tight fist. "I-I'm so close," Albert murmurs against his lover's shoulder. "James…"

"Me too," the older man says in a rush. "Albert, I'm going to… I need…"

"No, not yet," Albert says so quickly it surprises even himself, but even more surprising is the exhilarating rush that goes through his body when his lover doesn't try to argue and rather buries his face into the mattress with a sound halfway between a whine and a sob. And that is all it takes for Albert's climax to wash over him, his whole body tensing and his hips going still mid-thrust as he comes inside James's body.

It takes Albert a moment to remember that James is still holding back his own release, and he is amazed to realize that the older man seems to have actually followed his words like some sort of command when he collapses against James's back, breathing heavily from the continued stimulation around his spent cock.

"James…" The name is even sweeter on his lips now that he is so tired. "Your turn now," he says at last, and is he imagining things or were his words combined with a last thrust against the pillow all it took for his lover to come undone as well?

 

*

 

Albert doesn't know for sure how long he and James just lie there after he had finally found it in himself to move from their postcoital embrace, the two men now facing each other with their legs entwined as they share the bed originally meant for just one person, both still basking in the afterglow. He just knows that the sun is beginning to rise when he realizes that he had lost his battle against sleep, and the thought that James is leaving in a few hours brings a small and sad smile to his lips even though he knows that this time the other man will not take Joey away with him.

Albert lets out a shaky breath as he reaches up to run his fingers along James's stomach, the touch feather-light, and he is surprised to meet James's watchful gaze when he looks back at his lover's face. "You know, Joey is gonna miss you," he says in something that is barely above a whisper. "I mean, you've been with him even longer than I have…"

James seems to chortle at those words. "I saw this place for lease around town," he says in a calm but firm voice. "I was just here thinking that it wouldn't hurt to check it out. I would be close enough to visit Joey often. Close enough to visit you often." There's a bright smile on his lips as he speaks, one much brighter than Albert had thought he could expect from a man who had just come back from a war, but that smile fades slightly a second later. "Unless you don't want me close, of course. Then I suppose I could return home and stay there."

Albert furrows his brow at the uncertainty he once again hears in the other man's voice, and he almost wants to kick himself for it, but instead he moves his hand from James's stomach and puts his index finger against James's lips while sliding his leg up so that his knee now rests between James's thighs. "That would be lovely," he says with a warm smile and a certainty in his heart that he hadn't felt even when he had been so adamant that he could indeed train Joey for farm work years ago. He supposes he can think about the possible repercussions of having James living so close and how it could work at some other moment, but he refuses to worry about that just now.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been craving a canon-divergence story where James gets to keep his promise to Albert ever since the first time I watched the movie years ago, and even more so when I rewatched the movie recently. A story where Albert never needed to enlist to go after Joey, but he notices some of the toll the war took on James, and where James can let his guard down and accept comfort. So I thought, why don't I write one?
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this story and please leave kudos/comments! Make a writer happy! <3


End file.
